Waiting For You
by Ramonks33
Summary: The story of Jack Mellark, father of Peeta Mellark, and why he fell for the woman who could only love a miner from the Seam. (The story between Katniss' mother and Peeta's father)


_Waiting For You_

_ A/N: Waghh, I haven't posted Hunger Games fanfiction in like, what, ages. I am planning on writing a huge multi chapter Hunger Games centered fanfic, so this is sort of a filler for now...It's 9:00pm and I am too tired to write another chapter for the Soldier and the Singer, so please, just bear with me here._

* * *

_AGE 9:_

_Nevermore would he ever see such beauty._

_Looking up from the bread he was kneading, she had entered the shop with her father, a kind and well known man in the District. Brother to the mayor. He was buying some cinamon rolls from the shop, for a party of sorts. He watches as his father smiles charmingly at the customer, and then at the little girl by his side. She was dressed in a plain white dress, and her hair was hanging loose around her shoulders, watching with wide eyes. His father barked at him to prepare the bread, and he nods frantically. Beginning a new roll, he begins to squish the dough, kneading, reaching for the cinamon jar, as he met her eyes over the counter._

_ "Jack, right?"_

_He nods slowly, his cheeks flaring at her question. Many customers hesitated to ask his name, as they would most likely forget it as soon as they left the shop. He stuffs the bread into the oven, aware of her eyes on the back of his neck. For a moment, he allows himself to be distracted by her, looking over his shoulder, and then a touch of heat licks his finger. He turns back to see he has accidentally stuck his finger in the flames. He yelps, pulling it away, and catching the attention of the customer, the girl and his father._

_"Jack!" his father walks over, taking his thumb very gently in his hands. He narrows his eyes, assessing the severity of the burn, but before he could say a word to his son, the girl walks over from the other side of the counter, and takes the thumb in her hand, a concerned look on her face._

_"Minor burn, not even that bad," she says softly, looking at the thumb, biting her lip, "Just hold it under cold water, and you'll be fine."_

_Not a lot of people in District 12 knew knowledge like this, let alone know what to do. Mr. Mellark widens his eye as the girl guides Jack over to the cold water, and dips his thumb gently in it. Jack, blushing severely, refuses to make eye contact. Her father smiles at her with pride in his eyes, as she gently treats the burn with care._

_"Picks it up from her mother," the man explains, his eyes twinkling at the mention of her mother, "Sparrow has always been the most promising. Darling, I think Jack will be fine now."_

_"Agreed," she says, a tiny smile on her pale face. Letting go of his hand, Jack watches as she waves over her shoulder, as Mr. Mellark has been taking care of the cinamon buns while she treated Jack. Handing the bag over with care, he wraps an arm around his son's shoulders, who watches with awe as Sparrow's father pays for the buns and walks out, leaving an extra coin for a tip. Jack knew, right then and there, she was the girl he would end up waiting for. He was a goner._

* * *

_AGE 12:_

_"Hey, give it back!"_

_Jack Mellark looks up from the book he had quietly been reading in the corner of the school yard, to see a blonde girl around his age jumping up for a notebook, held by the school bully, Patrick. He was holding the notebook high over his head, and even though he was their grade, he was rather taller then everybody, except Jack. He thinks about leaving the girl to be, to let her deal with her own problems. Why should he get mixed up with the bully? He was on Patrick's good side-_

_Until he realized it was Sparrow._

_He had just realized they would be in the same class this fall, and for the first time, Jack was nervous to go to school. He was absolutely terrified, because she would be there. What could he say? What could he do? He had no older brothers to offer advice, and his father had only given a half-hearted shrug when he told him how much he liked her. His mother was gone, long gone, so it was just him and his father in the bakery. His father often had a friend over, a crooked man with dirty stained teeth, who often brought his daughter around. Carrie, her name was. For now, he had kept his distance from Carrie, as Sparrow would always pop into his mind whenever it wasn't occupied. She filled every narrow crook and cranny of his mind, waving and smiling at him. He couldn't forget the way she had held his hand when he had burned it, like it was precious. A gift. She was a gift. And always would be._

_Now, seeing her being harassed by a bully, Jack bites his lip,wondering what was the right thing to do. Should he run over and save her, like a knight in shining armor? Here, in District 12, men never really acted like the knights in the books, but Jack always fancied himself as one. To swoop in and save the day, to get the girl and live happily ever after. But here, there were no happy endings. And if you decided to be brave, you would end up dead. Look at all those tributes that had died in past years. They tried to be brave, and they were all gone. _

_Summoning his courage, he slowly sets his book down on the cement, and walks over, quietly observing from the corner, still thinking about what he could say, what he could do to help her...he was no knight. Sure, he had muscles and was alright at wrestling, but he wasn't exactly the hero type. Who was? Certainly not him. But seeing her distressed like this, it brought out something in him, wanting to be the hero she deserved. He clears his throat, before speaking in a firm voice._

_"Give her back the notebook, Patrick."_

_Patrick, having too much fun from harassing Sparrow, sees Jack and his smile fades slightly. Snarling, he pushes Sparrow out of the way and stares at him, malice in his eyes. Jack felt his arms tremble, but he stood tall, knowing he could stop this. He really could. Or so he hopes, anyway._

_"Yeah?" Patrick says, a growl tracing his words, "And what're you going to do about it, Mellark?"_

_"Jack, it's fine." Sparrow speaks from the corner, watching the boys stare each other down. She hated fighting. She hates watching people she cared for be torn down. She extends her hand to Jack, but brings it back coldly, continuing to plead for it to stop. She would not let him get beaten for her._

_"You don't want to know, Patrick," Jack replies, his hands beginning to curl into fists. He could stop this now, if he wanted. He could beat Patrick so hard he wouldn't hurt anybody ever again, he could do it, for her._

_But when he sees her pleading eyes, such fear, he recoils. She didn't want this, did she? She didn't want him fighting for her, didn't want him to lose his head over her. Certainly, by the way she was bouncing on the balls of her feet, she just wanted it to be over, with both occupants in right state._

_Jack takes a step back, much to Patrick's surprise. Stunned, Patrick stands still and lets the notebook go when Jack rips it from his hand, and slowly walks over to Sparrow, a strange sort of courage diminishing inside of him. Was he a coward for walking away from the fight, or was he braver? Is he brave for wanting her heart, or a coward for not going after her? He wanted to respect her, knowing she was amazing, unlike anything District 12 has seen in awhile. Handing her the notebook, he avoids her eyes as he slowly walks back to his corner, knowing she wouldn't thank him. Why should she? He was nothing but a coward, not giving Patrick what he really deserved. He should've punched him, at least said some nasty words to stun him-_

_"Hey!"_

_He feels her fingers wrap around his forearm, and he turns his head in surprise, to see her holding him back. She lets go slowly, a sheepish sort of smile on her face. God, was she beautiful. She holds her notebook close to her chest, and Jack is sure for a moment, the world has stopped just for them. Just for this._

_"Thank you, Jack. And...thanks for not hurting him. I hate fights."_

_He stands stunned for a moment, before finding ridiculous words tumbling from his throat._

_"So do I."_

_They both laugh, a warm, rich sound, as they both revel in the hilarity of the replies. Soon, they have both calmed down, and they stand there with what seems like no purpose. Not until she asks to accompany him back to the corner he was sitting in. Nodding slowly, they both walk over to the corner without a second thought, Jack completely dumbfounded. How would she want to be with him, just to sit with him? He didn't bother to ask, cause if he did, he knows itw would just cause her to find him strange. For now, he would give her the image of bravery, by walking away, and accompanying her when she asks._

* * *

_AGE 15:_

_He wraps an arm around her shaking shoulders, as she walks away from the Justice Building. He lets her bury her head in his shoulder as she cries, and he fights the urge to break as well, to cry in despair. For their friend, Maysilee Donner, had just been reaped in the Second Quarter Quell. She was as good as dead, it seems. Being reaped with Haymitch Abernathy, a boy they both knew from school, and some kids from the Seam, they knew that she wouldn't make it. As much as they tried to convince themselves of it, they knew she couldn't make it. She was brave, she was strong, she was smart, but the Careers had all of that, and more. She was gone._

_Sitting on the porch of the Apothecary owned by Sparrow's parents, she cries into her hands, as Jack wraps his arm around her shoulders, the weight of Maysilee's reaping on his shoulders as well. He knew Maysilee and Sparrow had been friends for a long enough time, and now, seeing her go off to her death, they may as well have spent Sparrow. His heart breaks, seeing her cry over and over. _

_"It..I cannot believe it, Jack...sh-she's as good as..." _

_"Hey," he says, slowly removing her hands from her face. Red, blotchy face, and swollen eyes, and she couldn't have been more radiant. He slowly wipes a tear away, taking his time in case she would pull away. She didn't. They had been friends long enough to let themselves hold each other in times of need. Like when Jack's dad passed two years ago, and he had to hold onto the shop, to be the man until he found someone he could marry. In his heart, he hoped it would be her, but in his head, he knows she wouldn't ever choose him. But he could still wait, and hope she would._

_"It's going to be okay. Maysilee is smart, she has this."_

_"B-But those Careers," she sniffles, biting her lip gently, "Th-they could kill her in the Opening Ceremonies...and...I don't think I could b-bear it..."_

_"Sparrow, she is strong." He found these words arising out of nowhere, as though they have always been there, waiting for this moment, "She has you to fight for, her parents, her friends, and herself. She has always been a strong one at school, remember? She could last. She could make it, anything could happen Sparrow."_

_She slowly nods in response, still remaining silent. Tears continue to roll down her face, however, and Jack lets her lean on him, as they sit together on Maysilee's front porch. The sky begins to turn a dark blue, flashes of lightning decorating the sky every few seconds. Rumbling thunder causes the ground to shake, but they remain still. And rain, pouring rain, begins to fall from the sky, stabbing the ground with the water that falls, and every person in the area runs for cover. The porch covers their head, and as she cries, he finds his own tears running down his face, realizing how much he could lose if Sparrow lost Maysilee. How much could he lose? He could lose everything he was still waiting for._

* * *

_AGE 18:_

_He didn't think his heart could take any more of this._

_When he first heard that she had run off, he had panicked. Rushing through the Merchant's part of the District, he frantically asked if anyone has seen her, Sparrow Ewart, daughter of Marcus and Kayla, blonde haired, blue eyed, and eighteen years old. Nobody had a clue. He knew it was useless to report to the Peacekeepers, cause he knew they didn't give a damn about their citizens. They were only concerned about staying alive, just like the rest of them. That didn't stop him from assaulting one, and earning a week suspension from school, to stay home until the week was up. He had spent it pacing, crying, and writing frantically in the journal his father had left. Oh, how he wrote about her. How the sun bounced off her blonde locks, the way her eyes would light up whenever he told a joke or made her laugh. The way she made him feel, like he could do anything and everything, as long as she needed him._

_He didn't realize how much he needed her until she was gone._

_Now, standing in the backyard of the house, he waits for her figure, her figure to show just like it always did every night. She would be dressed in a pale blue dress, a long black cloak, and she would be reaching for him, calling his name. And then, just like that, it would disappear. He knew it was hallucinations, but he didn't care. If those hallucinations were the only way he could see her again, well, Healers be damned._

_The rain continues to fall down, causing his visibility to be poor, but he gazes into the forest that lays beyond his house. In a way, it was peaceful, it calmed him down. To know life could still exist in such a desolent place without aid or wealth, it calmed him. _

_A figure moves amongst the trees. He tenses, his shoulders beginning to shake. He looks around for a weapon, anything to defend himself, when the figure is suddenly seen through a flash of lightning. Tan skin, tall, dark brown locks. Altan Everdeen, a boy he knew from school. Known for his dealings with the black market, he was nice enough, and had been friendly enough to Jack. Relaxing, he slowly moves his hand away from the block of wood. He watches, in the dimness, to see him move amongst the trees, taking careful steps. He was brave, and Jack had to admire his bravery, to risk death and everybody he loved to bring food home. _

_He hears a laugh, a high pitched familiar laugh. Shivering, he turns his back, figuring Altan must have brought a girl with him into the forest. It wouldn't be a surprise. But when he hears that laugh again, his heart drops. He knew that laugh._

_He slowly turns his head, pleading silently that it couldn't be her, that it shouldn't be. She was missing, she was as good as dead. No way could it be-_

_And yet, there she was. Illuminated solely by the lightning that dances across the sky, she stood by Altan's side, dressed in a raggedy brown dress. Her hair was braided down her back, and a cloak surrounds her shoulders, covering her from the rain. By Altan's side, she held a burlap sack, the burlap lumpy from the contents. And when lightning flashes again, he sees the way Altan looks at her, as though she was the most important thing in the world._

_Another flash. His arm was wrapped around her shoulder._

_Flash. Their lips meet, and Jack's heart breaks._

_He slowly pulls himself from his stunned state, walking back into his house without a thought. He doesn't realize how many tears are in his eyes until they blur his vision, and he has to scream to get them out. Slamming his fist into the wall, he sobs, letting it all go. A storm was all it took to take her away from him, to show how she never needed him. She didn't choose him. She chose Altan._

_"Y-You were supposed to love me." he whispers to himself, his voice breaking with the agonizing lie of the statement. No, she didn't. She didn't have to love him. She had a free will, a free heart. She was a bird, free to choose whoever she could love. And it wasn't him._

_It was never him._

* * *

_AGE 25:_

He married Carrie Ferguson at the age of 18. He had to learn how to forget Sparrow, how to forget how many times he had waited for her. All those years of loving her, and she never saw how much he needed her. Jack Mellark's pressure point was Sparrow Ewart, but Sparrow Ewart's would never be Jack Mellark.

Having their first child barely after a year of marriage, their third son, Peeta, was starting schoool today. They had Rye when they were merely 18, having him barely a month after the marriage. Bran, at 19, and Peeta at 20. He was five years old today, and they he was taking him to school. His brothers were old enough to walk by themselves.

Standing in line, Peeta grasps his father's hand as they wait to walk into the primary school, an excited smile on his face. Jack smiles down at his son, remembering the first time he had gone to school. It was the first time he had ever hoped that there could be something more in this life. Instead, he was cursed with this life. Fate picked favorites.

As Peeta talks, he glances around at the other fathers and mothers that sacrificed their work time to bring their children. He smiles at the energetic children, already talking and dancing together. He hoped Peeta wouldn't make too many friends, as odds were they would be taken away before they were 18. He knew this, because that's what had happened to Sparrow-

And there she was.

Standing tall, in all her glory, she grasps a little girl's hand, a bitter smile on her face. His heart breaks even more when he realizes who the girl looks like more. Her father. The couple had resurfaced a few years ago, and Jack was hesistant to become in touch with her again. He knew his heart could only take so much.

Gently tugging Peeta's hand, he kneels, pointing out the pair to his son.

"See that little girl over there?" he asks, a grim smile on his face, "The one with the two braids? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran away with a coal miner."

"Why would she want to be with a coal miner if she could've had you?"

Why did she?

It was a question that never ceased to haunt Jack, a question he wouldn't ever stop asking, even if he was married and had children. He still loved Sparrow Everdeen, though he pleaded in his heart that she would love him still. He knew he always will, but she would never see how much he did. He had always been so close, for her to love him, but almost could never ever be enough. Why did she choose Altan? A memory stirs, one that Jack had tried to forget, one that permanently stamped the reason in his brain, branding itself on his soul. Sparrow had always loved music, though Jack himself was rubbish at it. Altan...

"Cause when he sings...even the birds stopped to listen."

Including his own songbird, Sparrow. He had waited for her heart, and she had left without a trace, leaving him a mess. But that was okay, and at the same time it wasn't. All he wanted was for her to be happy, but he would still wait for her, from this day on and forevermore, he would wait for her heart, to see that he loved her more then she could ever know.

_Fin_


End file.
